


Young and Beautiful

by WinglessCrows



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 13:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14379234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinglessCrows/pseuds/WinglessCrows
Summary: Yuuri and Viktor go on a date, but people keep mistaking Yuuri for a teenager, which then makes Viktor look like a… not so good person.





	Young and Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Daniela_is_not_amused](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daniela_is_not_amused/gifts).
  * Inspired by [I'm twenty four!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9919142) by [LFMH021](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LFMH021/pseuds/LFMH021). 



> We needed more babyface Yuuri :)

It happens on a number of occasions, and in the beginning, Viktor finds it hilarious.

 

It’s summer, practice is over and with no competition looming in the near future, Viktor and Yuuri decide to go on a date. They’ve been doing that a lot lately, trying to catch up on all the date nights they missed out on when they were competing. Viktor has a whole evening planned, while Yuuri is in the dark. They will enjoy a classy dinner at one of the finest restaurants in Saint Petersburg, a ballet which they will watch from the best seats in the house, and then, lastly, Viktor has booked a night at a five-star hotel. Their room is the honeymoon suite, the view is facing the ocean and, if the staff has followed Viktor’s instructions, there should be rose petals on the bed, two flutes of champagne on the nightstand and scented candles would be the only source of light in the suite. Truly, Viktor has something great planned.

 

Of course, Yuuri is not entirely aware of any of this, so his attire is quite casual - Viktor’s is too, but only to not spoil the surprise. Yuuri is wearing a pair of black jeans, rolled up at the ankles, with the same shoes he wears anytime he’s not going for a run (or a romantic date with Viktor). Since even the summer nights in Saint Petersburg can get a little chilly, he’s wearing a fluffy jumper - it’s one Viktor gave him so it still looks great, although it does look more like he’s expecting Viktor to take him to the movies. His hair is somewhat of a mess, and since it’s been awhile since his last haircut, the bangs are just reaching his eyes. The glasses keep it at bay though, and while Yuuri isn’t exactly dressed for the ballet, he looks comfy and cute, which is really all that matters. 

 

“You look good,” Viktor says as he puts away a stray hair falling over Yuuri’s right eye, “Very cute.”

 

Yuuri smiles, which makes him look three years younger and Viktor can’t believe how absolutely adorable Yuuri is. Especially because when he simply slicks his hair back, he turns into some sort of mature sex-god, who should not be allowed near children. But maybe Yuuri seducing everyone in sight would not be ideal for a romantic evening, so Viktor thinks the cute look really is the way to go.

 

“Shall we,” Viktor asks and offers his hand.

 

“Lead the way,” Yuuri smiles and places his hand in Viktor’s.

 

* * *

“Wow,” Yuuri exclaims as their cab stops outside of their restaurant, “Do you think this place will even let us in, if we’re not wearing suits?”

 

“I told them that it was a surprise, so they better,” Viktor smiles and, as the gentleman he is, opens the door for Yuuri. They walk in together and is met by a somewhat angry looking receptionist.

 

“Reservation,?” she asks in Russian and Viktor smiles at her.

 

“Table for two. Nikiforov.”

 

She looks through some papers, then looks at Viktor, and then at Yuuri over the edge of her glasses. Viktor would say she looked like she disapproved of something, but since she’s been angry the whole time, well, maybe she just greets everyone that way.

 

“I was under the impression that you were coming with your fiancé,” she says and Viktor thinks he misheard her.

 

“I am.”

 

Yuuri, who’s grasp on Russian is not great, looks to Viktor, “Is there a problem?”

 

“I think she just got some information mixed up,” Viktor assures him.

 

“I’m afraid it’s against our policy to serve you,” she says and shuts her folder closed.

 

Viktor is taken aback, “Why?”

 

“We will not allow grown men to use our facilities to lure and deceive minors. I will advise you to leave or I will call the police.”

 

“Did she say the police? What’s happening? Viktor?” Yuuri starts rambling, and Viktor is just standing there, shocked, and then… he breaks into laughter. Yuuri’s adorably confused puppy face is certainly not helping the situation.

 

“Ma’am, I am so sorry,” Viktor laughs, and she might actually be ready to call the police at this point, “My fiancé just looks very young. He’s actually twenty four.”

 

“Do not lie to me. I’ve been working here long enough to know a minor when I see one. That kid is no older than eighteen.”

 

Viktor almost falls over from laughter and poor Yuuri has no idea what’s happening. 

 

“We have ID,” Viktor says, once the laughter dwells, and he pulls out his wallet. He had taken Yuuri’s driver’s license (which he could only use in America anyway), when Yuuri had first moved in because twenty year old Yuuri looked adorable in the photo.

 

“An American driver’s license?” She scolds, “Anything from America can’t be trusted.”

 

Viktor giggles, “Right. Cause we’re Russian.” He pulls up Yuuri’s wikipedia instead. “Look, he’s a professional athlete. I promise. He just looks really young when he doesn’t do his hair.”

 

She looks back and forth between Viktor and Yuuri, who, god bless him, is still clueless.

 

“Very well then,” she says, “I’ll show you to your table.”

 

As they get seated, Yuuri finally gets to ask Viktor what happened.

 

“She thought I was some old predator taking advantage of a minor,” Viktor laughs, “Said you couldn’t be older than eighteen.”

 

While Viktor is laughing, Yuuri does not seem to share the fun.

 

“Are you kidding me?” He responds, clearly trying to keep his voice down to avoid creating a scene, “I’m halfway through my twenties! I don’t look like a teenager!”

 

“Dressed like that, you kind of do.”

 

Yuuri looks down on himself, and shakes his head, “Well, at least that’s over with. Should we order?”

 

The go through the rest of the meal without any further mention of Yuuri’s babyface, although, Viktor does spot their waiter take an extra glance at Yuuri. He is cute though, so he lets it pass.

 

* * *

“Oh my God,” Yuuri exclaims as they reach their next stop. His eyes are sparkling as he turns to Viktor, “Please tell me you have tickets for Swan Lake and we’re not just here to admire the building.”

 

Viktor holds up the VIP tickets and Yuuri’s eyes begin to shimmer. Viktor is such a good fiancé. Yuuri has been talking about wanting to see Swan Lake since… well, since Viktor showed up in Hasetsu and they could have a conversation without Yuuri shying away from it. It was apparently the first proper piece of music Yuuri danced to under Minako, and he had always wanted to see the ballet. Viktor had known he would take Yuuri to this show for over a year now, and to see that Yuuri was so excited for it, was the best thing he could get in return.

 

“And we’ll be in total privacy as well, so if you ever feel like saying thank you with a makeout session during the intermission, don’t hold back.”

 

Yuuri doesn’t hesitate and kisses Viktor right then and there. “This is better than winning Worlds,” he says brightly, and Viktor can’t even think up a good comeback.

 

They walk into the ballet theatre and Yuuri looks around, clearly enjoying himself. He kind of gives off the vibe of a child going to the zoo for the first time. They arrived a little early, just in case, and Yuuri is having a lot of fun taking pictures of everything. He even posts a bit on his usually dead instagram, and Viktor is having a lot of fun taking pictures of Yuuri posing in front of various art sculptures and paintings. That is until their fun is interrupted by a security guard.

 

“I’m sorry,” Viktor says as the guard comes up to him. He’s taller than Viktor, which is intimidating, “I thought it was allowed to take pictures.”

 

“It is,” the guard says, “If you have tickets for the next show.”

 

“Oh,” Viktor smiles, maybe they just looked like confused tourists, “We have tickets, see?” He holds up the two tickets and expects the guard to leave. He doesn’t.

 

“You have to be twenty to attend the Swan Lake show. I’m afraid we’ll have to ask you to return your tickets.”

 

“Twenty?” Viktor questions, “I’m twenty-eight.”

 

“Even if you are allowed to attend, your nephew or whatever he is, is not allowed to go, even with adult supervision.”

 

“Nephew? Adult supervision?” Viktor blinks a few times, and then points to Yuuri, “That’s my fiancé.”

 

The bodyguard looks at Yuuri, who is standing a little away from them. He has stopped taking pictures ever since the security guard came up to Viktor.

 

The bodyguard looks between them and then his gaze finally stops at Viktor. He suddenly looks even more intimidating. “I can’t say I approve, but as long as you’re not forcing him into anything, I’ll let it go. But a policy is a policy. I will have to ask you and your… finacé to leave.”

 

“Wait, sir, mister,” Viktor tries, “My fiancé is twenty-four. I know he looks a little younger, especially when dresses cutely like tonight,” Viktor gets a little sidetracked, “But I promise you he’s certainly of age.”

 

“Do you have ID?”

 

“Do you accept an American driver’s license?” Viktor smiles, still slightly scared that the man will just pick him up and throw him out of the door.

 

“No.”

 

Viktor sighs and finds his phone. It’s still open on Yuuri’s wikipedia page. The man scrolls up and down the page, looks to Yuuri and then gives Viktor back his phone. As the guard leaves, Viktor puts his phone back in his pocket, but in the two seconds he looked away, the guard has walked over to Yuuri. And it looks like he’s reaching for something. Did he have a gun? What was going on? Viktor hurries over to Yuuri only to see the bodyguard holding out some paper and a pen for Yuuri.

 

“My daughter is a big fan. Could you give her an autograph?”

 

Viktor stops abruptly as Yuuri, smiling brightly and innocently, just takes the paper and gives an autograph and a message. He even takes a couple of pictures with the bodyguard, as well as a picture with him holding up the message addressed to the guard’s daughter. Viktor is speechless. 

 

As they take their seat a couple of minutes before the show starts, Yuuri brings up the guard.

 

“That guard was so nice,” he says, slowly getting excited for the ballet, “When he started talking to you, I thought he said taking pictures wasn’t allowed and I got really scared because I had already posted so many things online. But I guess he just wanted an autograph,” Yuuri laughs.

 

Viktor considers telling Yuuri what really happened, but with Yuuri in such a good mood, Viktor thinks that it can wait. It will be a fun story for tomorrow.

 

* * *

At the intermission, Yuuri gives Viktor the makeout he most definitely deserved, but as fate would have it, the privacy gets interrupted by two women, who accidently walked in through the wrong door.

 

“Viktor Nikiforov?” One of the ladies exclaim, and Yuuri and Viktor quickly pull apart, “It is you!”

 

Viktor recognizes the two of them as former ballerinas. They used to dance for different groups, who were constantly in competition with each other, but somehow, the two of them ended up married. Lilia had told Viktor the story approximately a thousand times too many, because she claimed that it was like marrying the enemy. Viktor thinks she was just jealous. From all the stories, it was clear that she just had a crush.

 

Her wife comes up behind her, and, she too, seems very excited about meeting Viktor, “And who is your cute companion? A junior from the rink perhaps?”

 

Viktor lets go of the word ‘junior’, because your could be nineteen as a junior and, at least, that wasn’t as bad as thinking Yuuri was a minor. Or maybe she just meant ‘a skater younger than Viktor’ when she said junior. They did that in Japan. In which case, she would be right. 

 

“This is my fiancé Yuuri,” Viktor says in English, “His Russian isn’t very good yet, so I’d appreciate it if we could converse in English.” Had it been anyone else interrupting them, Viktor would have tried to make them leave, but he knew these two would stay even if he tried to push them off the balcony, so he gives up before he even tries.

 

“Oh,” they say in unison, clearly disapproving, “That’s your type?”

 

“What? Handsome? Cute? Beautiful?” Viktor answers a little harshly, “What’s there not to like?”

 

“The child part of it,” one of them says, and Viktor is about to scream ‘He’s twenty-four!’, when Yuuri starts giggling. Viktor almost tells him to stop, because that’s really not helping his image of a young teen being tricked by this old man who has taken him to see a ballet. But he keeps silent. Yuuri has a wonderful laugh.

 

One of the women walk up to Yuuri and starts talking to him. And by talking to him, Viktor means bending down and speaking softly like one would treat a five year old.

 

“I know Viktor is famous and handsome and all that, but you shouldn’t date men who are that much older than you,” she says, “If you’re scared of rejecting him, we wouldn’t mind taking you home.”

 

And Yuuri just loses it, and Viktor supposes he would find it funny as well, if it wasn’t the third time in the last four hours that someone thought he was dating a minor.

 

“That’s your wife, right?” Yuuri asks between fits of laughing.

 

“Yeah?” She answers slowly, probably not sure why Yuuri is laughing.

 

“And what’s the age difference between you two?”

 

“Just about five years,” she sighs, “But five years is a lot less in our age. And well. Ten years is just a bit too much, don’t you think?”

 

Yuuri laughs again, “You are very kind,” he says, and Viktor picks up on the slight sarcasm. Yuuri is trying to make them leave, “But Viktor is only four years older than me.” And then Yuuri takes off his glasses and runs a hand through his hair to slick it back. The woman looks like she has a heart attack.

 

“Oh dear, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize… But now that I look at you. Yes, if you will excuse us, we have to… uh, go to our seats, yes. Have a good night.”

 

As they leave, Yuuri shakes his hair back into place and puts his glasses back on.

 

“Wow,” Viktor breathes, “A real life Clark Kent… But I thought you didn’t like when people mistook you for a teenager?”

 

Yuuri laughs again, “I don’t, but you looked so distressed, I couldn’t help but laugh.”

 

“Oh,” Viktor responds, “Well, I’m glad you’re having fun.”

 

Yuuri takes mercy on him and brings him back in to finish their kiss.

 

* * *

“So, what now?” Yuuri asks after the ballet. He looks happy, and he had spent the first ten minutes after it had ended, raving about how much he had enjoyed it.

 

“We have one more thing planned for tonight,” Viktor smiles and before Yuuri gets to ask any more questions, he finds them a cab.

 

* * *

“A hotel?” Yuuri questions as they arrive at their final destination, “We live ten minutes away though?”

 

“You’ll understand when you see it,” Viktor smiles and takes Yuuri’s hand to lead him inside.

 

A young man stands at the reception, and Viktor goes up to him, “I have a reservation for Nikiforov.”

 

He looks at Viktor and Yuuri, and Viktor is already reaching for his phone, still open on Yuuri’s wikipedia.

 

“Don’t you two have school tomorrow?” The receptionist asks and Viktor halts in his movements.

 

“Two?”

 

“Ah, you must be a college student,” the man says knowingly, “A second-year perhaps?” Viktor doesn’t know how to respond, “I suppose college students can afford to skip a few classes, but maybe not your boyfriend. Last year in high school?” The question is directed at Yuuri who just tilts his head.

 

“Did he say school, or am I getting Russian words mixed up again?”

 

“No, he said school,” Viktor responds, and the receptionist just looks on, clearly not speaking English himself, as he busies himself with looking up Viktor’s reservation.

 

“Ah, the honeymoon suite,” the man says, “Trying to live out some of those American romance movies?” He wiggles his eyebrows, “The hotel provides condoms and whatever else you will need. There even is pamphlet that you might want to read. You’d want your first time to be memorable, right?”

 

“Yes....” Viktor says slowly, “First time...”

 

“And don’t be alarmed if you run out of condoms. If you don’t put it on right the first time, just take a new one, and we will happily provide you with more.” The man smiles brightly, and Viktor just nods. This conversation has taken a weird turn.

 

The man then bids Viktor and Yuuri to follow him as he shows them to their room. He even grabs some sort of pamphlet, and sticks it into Yuuri’s hands.

 

Yuuri walks up to Viktor and whispers to him: “Why did he give me a guide on ‘how to experience the best orgasm’?”

 

“Apparently he thinks I’m a young college student, taking by high school boyfriend on a date inspired by American movies so that we can ‘do it’ for the first time. I was not expecting to get a lecture on how to use condoms today.”

 

Yuuri makes a face, “That was what he was talking about? Suddenly the gestures make sense.”

 

They reach the room and the receptionist hands them they keys. “Don’t hesitate to ask about anything, and don’t worry too much about getting the bed dirty. We clean the sheets every day. Enjoy your stay.” And off he goes.

 

“I heard dirty,” Yuuri says.

 

“Let’s not talk about it.” Viktor shakes off the experience, “After you, my dear.”

 

“‘My dear’?” Yuuri says dramatically, “Don’t you think it’s too early for that? People would think us too young for such intimacy.”

 

“Yuuri!”

**Author's Note:**

> Humor is not my strong suit, especially not as the main genre, but I tried my best.


End file.
